CHAINSAW MAN, oneshots

SAMSONITE - Kishibe/Female Reader

Mermaid Devil - Part 1

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Stirred, misty heavens above opened its wide gates, spreading grayish, decaying clouds throughout the sky like a wicked plague. A dreadful sensation crawled up your spine then somnolently down the entirety of your body; paralyzing your legs in stiff concrete.

The sun hardly beamed at this time—this early in the morning. It wasn't dark enough to still consider it night, however, it also wasn't bright enough to consider it dawn. It was in between those periods—a perfect twilight, it was. Likewise, it matched your present feelings and mood at that moment in time.

The horrendous smell of Tokyo diverted your senses. Sounds of early trains flying hastily above you, and the trivial fear of the clouds sobbing on you today—shivering you. Why exactly did _he_ want you to wake up and arrive here so damn early? So early that you couldn't tell if it was still night or morning. You'll settle for the morning.

Today was the start of your career as a zippy devil-hunter, well, your training as one. What you found irritating was that the senior devil hunter who was assigned to train you had full control over this instruction. This is why he's able to call you up so early, on this day, specifically at this scruffy location, and stand you up all on top of that.

The audacity of men. You haven't personally met this devil-hunter yet, but you could already tell he was an asshole and a rugged dog just by his behavior 'tis far. Additionally, the location he told you to arrive at this day descriptively showed his not giving a fuck demeanor. Kishibe, which is his name, told you to arrive at this hotel that resided in the middle of the rough parts of Tokyo via a late email.

You weren't scared of creeping around in these parts at this time or anything; growing up in similar parts dissolved any fear that may have manifested itself. You were young, but you were not naïve in the slightest. The hotel doors you stood in front of rather suspiciously weren't any roundabout hotel and you could sense that much.

Each man that passed through the hotel's doors flirted with you like panting dogs in the summer's heat. You periodically dismissed every one of them swiftly. At this point, you're not even bothering to spare a glance at them. What made it quite difficult was each man who left the building looked like the description you were looking for. You were looking out for an older man, in his forties or so: dark hair, inflicted grays, and facial hair. That was it.

You sighed, dancing your eyes around your surroundings for the hundredth time that hour, suspicious characters all around. Hell, they probably consider you a suspicious character too.

You pull at your loose tie, the fabric rubbing against the back of your neck with each mild tug. The area was shadow-bombed, milky darkness seeped into the cracked streets like rain puddles. The wall you leaned on roughly rubbed against your blazer.

You chuckled to yourself, breaking the silence that fractured the neighborhood. You tried finding humor in this situation. A lazy, tired smile drooped from your face, eyes tingly drained.

The damn hotel he told you to meet him at was a bloody love hotel. A lousy cheap one too.

Kishibe hadn't mentioned anything about the location being a love hotel in his email. No wonder every person who passed in and out of those doors assumed you were up for grabs. Comedic shit.

You lean back further, staring up at the sky, in turn bumping your head against the concrete wall. No pain was emitted, though. The sky was starless as expected, but a mystique fog swirled in every direction, telling you an ancient ole tale.